The Accidentals Series 05: Memory
by speshulduck
Summary: [au 5] elliot and olivia struggle to regain a sense of normalcy in wake of recent events.
1. chapter one

title: memory  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
summary: elliot and olivia struggle to regain normalcy in the wake of recent events.  
  
author note: back to a casefile! AND, just to make kukrae happy...their metal desks with dividers that reach to the floor have been modified to allow computer cables to pass back and forth, so they could conceivably kick each other all day long if they wanted. happy now? canon-crusader my ass; i had to get the snarky beta, didn't i? much love, dear :)  
  
disclaimer: this might cause you otherwise perfectly healthy folks to drop dead from a heart attack out of shock, but these characters aren't actually mine.  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squadroom -  
  
- Tuesday October 5th 10:24am -  
  
Elliot antsily shuffled the papers on his desk. He'd been looking through them for the past two hours hoping to find something more entertaining than paperwork in desperate need of completion. So far no luck, but at least he was entirely caught up on his backlog. From the looks of things his partner was equally discouraged with her paperwork. They stood in a neatly complete stack and she was poking aimlessly at her keyboard. They'd both been chained to the desk since their first day back, which was yesterday.  
  
He supposed he could understand Cragen's reluctance to send them out into the field after everything that had happened to them, but they'd both talked to George yesterday. He'd discussed what he'd said with Olivia once she was done and she told him everything she's said. If anything the captain should have been impressed with their ability to handle the situation. He knew that didn't mean they'd get a pat on the back and get sent out to the first case that popped up, but surely there would have been some simple case with which to ease themselves back into the rush of things.  
  
He stuck all his paperwork in his outbox and crossed his hands behind his head as he stretched out, letting his feet reach under the desk to nudge Olivia's. She snapped out of her spacey stare at her computer screen to glance at him as he pulled his legs back to keep from further unnecessary contact. She only looked at him for a moment before slowly moving to mirror his posture. They stared at each other for a moment before he tweaked the corner of his mouth in a small grin. "Think they're ever going to let us out of here?"  
  
She shrugged, her whole body announcing a distinct lack of caring that was at odds with the gleaming frustration in her eyes. He felt her ankle brush up against his as she shifted positions and he jumped back a few inches. He hadn't been lying when he told George that he could barely stand to touch her when they were outside of the apartment. Whether it came from physical discomfort or a worry of what people would think he wasn't sure.  
  
"I hope they do," she answered, not missing his movements. "Even just an easy one at this point."  
  
"How about a date rape?" Cragen's voice asked from behind Elliot. They both turned to look at him and he tossed a file folder down in front of Elliot. "She's at St. Katherine's down on 82nd. Get her statement."  
  
"Are we free to roam the city now?" Elliot asked as he stood, picking up the folder as he went.  
  
"You're off restricted duty, if that's what you mean. But I don't want you guys pushing yourselves too hard."  
  
"Yes, Dad," Olivia said as she headed for the coat rack.  
  
- St. Katherine's Hospital -  
  
- 436 West 82nd Street -  
  
- Tuesday October 5th 11:30am -  
  
"Excuse me," Elliot gently pushed through the line of waiting people to get to the front desk. He flashed his badge at the harried looking nurse behind the counter. "I'm Detective Stabler with the Special Victims Unit." He gestured to Olivia who had pushed through behind him. "This is my partner, Detective Benson. We're looking for Lida Nichols."  
  
"Right, the date rape," the woman said. She pointed to their left. "Room 172 down the hall and through the double doors."  
  
"Thank you," Elliot nodded and they both moved off in the direction she'd pointed.  
  
"You ready for this?" Olivia asked him after they'd taken a few steps. He turned his head to look at her as they continued to walk.  
  
"Why would I not be?"  
  
She gave him a look that clearly said she knew he was giving her the runaround. "Because we've been victims for the past few weeks. I know I'm having trouble transitioning back to the other side of the coin."  
  
"You're saying maybe we aren't ready yet." He pushed open the door and held it open for her. The room numbers on the other side started in the 110s; they had a ways to go.  
  
"That's exactly what I'm saying." She exhaled heavily. "I'm hoping this really is an easy one to get back into things."  
  
"I'll be honest, Liv." He looked at her with concern. "I'm more worried about you feeling the victims' pain too deeply, now that you can sympathize instead of just empathize."  
  
"There's a difference?" she asked with a wry grin on her face.  
  
"A subtle one, but yes," he nodded. "Before you could understand their feelings because you're just that emotionally in touch with people. But now you've had similar experiences and every time we interview another rape victim I'm going to have to wonder if you're thinking about what happened to us."  
  
She surprised him by reaching out to take his hand, holding it as they walked. "And I'm more worried about you seeing yourself as a rapist again, every time we hear about their feelings of violation." She dropped his hand after giving it a quick squeeze, probably still remembering his reaction to her touching him earlier.  
  
"So let's promise to tell each other if we're feeling that way," she suggested. He smiled at her and dipped his head once.  
  
"Sounds like a good idea." She ducked her head down as they walked, smiling in that way that made him question his sanity for living with her. He felt a surge of affectionate nostalgia swell up in his throat.  
  
"What would I do without you, Olivia?" he asked quietly and she gave him an amused look.  
  
"Probably flounder around aimlessly until someone else pointed you in the right direction."  
  
Any retort he could have given back was cut short by their arrival at the door to room 172. It was already open, so Olivia knocked softly and stepped in, gesturing with her hand for Elliot to stay in the doorway. He knew how this would go; he'd hang back in the door to be the least amount of threatening possible while Liv would work her sympathetic magic with the victim. After so many years of working together they slipped into the routine easily, even after their recent problems.  
  
"Lida Nichols?" Olivia asked the woman waiting on the exam bed. She looked up, startlement obvious in her wide brown eyes. Coupled with dark skin and short brown hair, she reminded Elliot of a much younger version of Olivia herself--though he'd never seen such a vulnerability in Liv's eyes. The scratches and bruises that marred the exposed skin of her face and arms was enough to make Elliot cringe in compassion.  
  
"That's me," she said in a shaky voice. Her eyes slid past Liv to rest on Elliot's face and her body curled in on itself, almost like it was an instinctive reaction. He had seen it before and took a step back so he was almost outside of the room. Olivia shot him a look over her shoulder and gave him a brief nod. He kept going until he was entirely out and leaned against wall. He could still hear the conversation, but his presence was probably only going to make things worse for the victim at this point.  
  
He heard Liv introduce herself and explained why they were there. He could hear a slight sob and the rustling of sheets. He could imagine Liv sitting down next to the girl and offering her support. It was what she was best at.  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squadroom -  
  
- Tuesday October 5th 2:45pm -  
  
"Munch, Fin, where are you on the Fleming case?" Cragen stood with his arms crossed, glaring with the utmost look of thoughtfulness as he heard their mid-afternoon reports. Olivia assessed him from only a few feet away at her desk. Her partner sat across from her while Munch and Fin leaned against their own desks to deliver the report on their cases. "Your last witness have anything good to contribute?"  
  
"Actually she did," Munch said. "She remembered seeing our suspect hanging around just before closing time, so that means he was lying to us about being at home."  
  
"Which means his mother was lying too. Pick them both up for questioning. Elliot, Olivia, what have you got on your date rape?"  
  
Elliot shifted his gaze to her and nodded with his chin. She'd been the one to interview her so it was her presentation. "The vic's name is Lida Nichols. Last night she was out with her boyfriend Sebastian Farley, a rich boy from the right side of town. He also has a bit of a coke habit. She tried to get him to go home when he got violent, but he decided to rape and beat her instead. He used his keys to scrape her too. Rape kit turned up positive, but no semen. She said he used a condom."  
  
"So why isn't he in here right now?" Cragen demanded.  
  
"We stopped by his house on the way back here," Elliot said. "Wasn't home and he wasn't at class either. He's twenty-four and enrolled at Columbia. This is his last year before he gets his graduate degree in business."  
  
"Going straight to Daddy's firm?"  
  
"Slight detour to jail first, if we can help it." The predatory look that Elliot tended to get when they were closing in on a perp was gracing his face now and Olivia was grateful to see it in place.  
  
"Call Alex and get a warrant for his place then. Do it on the drugs if you have to, but I want him and his keys in here for questioning and testing respectively."  
  
- Apartment of Sebastian Farley -  
  
- 243C West Madison Avenue -  
  
- Tuesday October 5th 6:20pm -  
  
"Wow," Elliot drawled as he and Olivia climbed the steps to the upper floor of Sebastian Farley's upscale apartment. The open-aired contemporary feel of the stairs meant the second floor overlooked the first in a loft-style. It was entirely without dividing walls, save the bathroom, so the spacious upstairs was entirely Farley's bedroom. A tangled mess of sheets covered the king-sized bed against the far brick wall and a desk was neatly organized against the right wall. Halfway down the wall to their left closet doors hung open, permitting them a look into the enormous walk-in closet.  
  
"Yeah," Olivia agreed. "Father must be real good at the investment business." This place probably cost ten times the amount per month as their apartment. She noticed that the bed was the only thing messy about the entire apartment. Even the kitchen had everything carefully organized. The only food in the fridge had been take-out containers and white wine.  
  
"I doubt we'll find the keys since he's probably got them with him, but let's split up and try to find his stash of coke," Elliot suggested as he strapped on the latex gloves.  
  
An hour later they had separately search both floors and found enough cocaine to put him away for "intent to sell" in addition to possession. Elliot had even found a long-sleeve shirt in the top of his hamper that had blood on the front and edges of the sleeves. This was starting to look like an open and shut case, except they just couldn't find their perp.  
  
Olivia was downstairs, assembling all their evidence bags into two categories--drug and rape-related--when she heard the click of keys in the front door. Doubting it was the landlord coming back to check on their status, she called up to Elliot. "Hey, Elliot! I think he's home!"  
  
He was already half-way down the stairs by the time a young man with dirty blond hair had closed the door behind him, not even noticing Olivia. She took in his finely manicured appearance with a somewhat amused air; he hadn't even seen her and she was right in front of him. His suit fit too perfectly to not be tailored specifically for him and she grinned as he hooked his keys on a rack next to the door after he locked it.   
  
"Sebastian Farley?" she asked, startling him into whirling around. His brown eyes betrayed his surprise even as his body moved in exacting control to face her. His fists seemed to move instinctively up to protect himself, as if he'd had years of martial arts training. Fat lot of good that had accomplished.  
  
"Who are you? And what the hell are you doing in my house?" he demanded, not lowering his arms. She felt Elliot come up behind her. It was a most welcome and reassuring presence.  
  
"Detectives Benson and Stabler," she said, indicating first herself then Elliot. "We have a search warrant for these premises." Next to her Elliot fished it out of his jacket pocket and moved forward to hand it to Farley.  
  
"You can't just come in here and--" he started.  
  
"Sure we can," Elliot interrupted, smiling. "Judge says we can. You probably shouldn't have left a bloody shirt or your stash of cocaine here after you raped your girlfriend."  
  
Farley's jaw clenched as he dropped his hands a few inches. "I didn't--"  
  
"What, rape her?" Olivia asked as Elliot grabbed his wrist and started to slap the cuffs on. "Sure you did. In a cocaine-induced rage. Next time when she says get out, you might want to listen."  
  
Elliot started in instantly on his Miranda rights. "Sebastian Farley. You have the right to remain silent..."  
  
[tbc]  
  
before you ask, no, it's never that easy on svu ;) 


	2. chapter two

title: memory - chapter two  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author note: wtf, mate? i think life gives me writer's block, like a disease or something.  
  
disclaimer: ...not mine? i play with them anyway.  
  
- Apartment of Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler -  
  
- Wednesday October 6th 2:42am -  
  
Olivia lay tightly ensconced in the sheets of her double bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling and frustrated by her constant inability to sleep. Even right after the kidnapping and the trial that followed she'd never had so much trouble falling asleep. The dreams had been a little rough at first, but at least in dreaming she knew she spent time unconscious.  
  
She'd laid awake after cases before, but never like this. And the case they were working on wasn't even that bad. Well, not relatively speaking; they were all bad of course. It wasn't that difficult, she amended. She and Elliot had brought in their date rape perp and handed him over to Munch and Fin for questioning. Both she and Elliot had naturally wanted to do it themselves, but Cragen insisted they go home before he forced them to. Suffice it to say they'd been upset, but the captain had refused to back down. They'd grabbed take-out on their way home, grumbling to each other the whole time.  
  
It was aggravating to be treated like a small child who was so fragile she'd break at the slightest hint of pressure. Elliot was feeling the same way, she knew, so they'd tried to talk about it. She sighed to herself in the darkness. They'd both been feeling too angry at themselves and at Cragen to get very far.  
  
But neither this case nor her fading anger was what was keeping her awake. She hadn't been able to sleep before they'd caught the case that morning. She couldn't put her finger on exactly when the sleeplessness had started, but it was starting to make her less focused at work. Elliot had caught her staring at her computer screen earlier and she knew she'd probably missed something in her paperwork.  
  
She rolled over and stared at her door. Maybe she should just call it quits on trying to sleep in here and head out to the living room at crash on the couch. Late night TV was looking better and better. She threw off the covers and headed for the door.  
  
The instant the door opened the sharply flickering light of television in the dark assaulted her vision. It seemed the couch was already occupied by one insomniac. Elliot slowly dragged his eyes from the TV to her face and they stared at each other for a moment. A million thoughts trampled through her mind as she crossed her arms defensively in front of her. They hadn't gone to bed on exactly the best of terms. Apparently he was having the same troubles with the elusive sleep that she was. It wasn't something she'd noticed before tonight, so perhaps he felt guilty about their half-argument.  
  
His eyes reflected the flashing lights of some talk show repeat or another, giving her the distinct impression they were made of liquid. It was disconcerting, so she let her eyes trail down to the old Marines t-shirt, then the blanket flung over his legs in a haphazard fashion. Actually he looked like he'd be perfect to snuggle up against, letting the heat of his body soak into hers.  
  
She mentally slapped herself for going there, even in her thoughts. He'd made it painfully clear that he just wasn't ready for that yet. That morning had bordered on embarrassing, waking up in his arms and kissing him only to have him tell her it was too soon. Of course it was too soon and she'd been a fool to think of trying anything. She worked with rape victims every day, and while she herself wasn't feeling most of the symptoms of typical Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome she knew enough to recognize them in him. His reluctance to touch was the one that hurt her the most. He'd taken to jumping away from even the slightest contact.  
  
To her immense surprise he reached out one hand in her direction, gesturing for her to sit next to him. She crossed the room in only three steps, but restrained herself from flinging against him. She needed so desperately to feel that human contact; it was as strong a yearning as she'd yet experienced. Gently lowering herself down next to him, she was surprised to feel his arm slide down to rest lightly against her shoulders. Lowering herself willingly into his embrace, she let him rearrange the blanket so it covered both of them.  
  
They both still had yet to make a sound. For all their problems, she was grateful to have such an easy relationship with him on most days. The mere fact that he would let her rest so intimately against him spoke to levels of trust he probably wouldn't bestow on anyone else right now. She probably wouldn't either, now that she really thought about it. Here she was safe and accepted completely; no one here would treat her like she was about to break if they tread too heavily.  
  
She'd barely registered what show was on before her eyelids slid shut and sleep claimed her.  
  
-----  
  
The phone cut through Olivia's brain like a fire alarm. The warm body underneath her ear shifted as he reached out to pluck the phone from the end table.  
  
"Stabler," his sleepy voice answered. She perked up slightly, hoping to eavesdrop on the conversation. She noticed the TV was off and she'd somehow ended up with her arms wrapped around her partner's waist, her legs curled up under her. It was still dark outside the window, so they must not have slept too long. Too bad she couldn't see the clock in the darkness.  
  
"Yeah," Elliot acknowledged into the phone. His voice sounded much more alert now that he'd had a moment to wake up. She let her eyes drift half closed again to just concentrate on the texture of his voice.  
  
"Right. We'll be right there." Oh that was never a good thing, especially not when one was so comfortable just where she was. His body shifted again as he reached to hang up the phone.  
  
"You're not going to like this," he said. She just groaned in response. "That was Cragen. Apparently Lida Nichols was the victim of a hit-and-run this afternoon."  
  
"What?" Olivia sat straight up to look at him, even though she couldn't really see him in the darkness. "Is she okay?"  
  
"The captain said she finally came out of surgery just now."  
  
"We've got to get down there," Olivia said urgently.  
  
- St. Katherine's Hospital -  
  
- 436 West 82nd Street -  
  
- Wednesday October 6th 5:32am -  
  
"Captain!" Olivia called down the hall. Their boss turned away from the doctor to whom he was talking and spotted the two detectives hurrying to meet him.  
  
"You know you didn't really have to come all the way down here; she's not going to be waking up any time soon," he groused at them. He waved his hand at the older man standing next to him. "Doctor Neil says she's probably suffered some brain damage, so we don't even know how much she'll be able to tell us when she does wake up."  
  
"Have you interviewed any witnesses yet?" Olivia asked.  
  
Cragen held up his hands, trying to slow her down. "The uniforms who were the first on the scene got only a vague description of the car that hit her. A large, black SUV, of which we have thousands in this city." He watched as his two top detectives, both of whom he was still worried about, looked at each other for a moment, obviously processing the bits of information in that old familiar way. For a moment he could almost believe things were completely back to normal between them, but he knew it was probably just his own imagination seeing what he wanted to see.  
  
Huang had told him they'd be fine eventually if people just left them alone, so sending them home the night before--had it been that long ago?--had probably been a bad idea. He hadn't been able to help it though. They'd only been back for a couple days and he would be damned before he let them kill themselves over a case that was so easily taken care of by someone else. There was no need to have them pull an eighteen hour day.  
  
"What?" he asked them after allowing them a few seconds to stare at each other. He recognized their stare as the one that had allowed them to function so perfectly and crack cases many times over in the past. He knew enough to trust they'd figure this out eventually.  
  
"Sebastian Farley owns a black Cadillac Escalade," Elliot finally informed him. His intense blue eyes had leveled on Cragen now. "When did you say the hit and run occurred?"  
  
"About five o'clock, down in the Village," he said. The intense scrutiny he was under kicked up another few notches, but Elliot quickly swung his inquiring look back to Olivia. Watching the battle of information that silently resumed in their gaze induced a wave of relief in Cragen. The hope that maybe they'd be just fine nibbled at the edge of his heart.  
  
"He had plenty of time," Elliot said.  
  
"Enough to do it, clean the car of any evidence, then get home where he found us executing the search warrant," Olivia continued his thoughts for him, indignant anger plain in her voice.  
  
"The little shit," Elliot growled through his teeth. Both he and Olivia spun around and made a move for the door.  
  
"Hey, where are you two going?" Cragen barked, halting them with just the sound of his voice. They both turned their bodies warily around to face him. Perhaps he'd used too much force in that. "If you think you're going to beat the confession out of him--"  
  
"We just want to ask him a couple questions is all," Olivia offered. Cragen assessed them carefully, knowing they would wrangle a confession out of him one way or another. While he didn't want them to open themselves up to a brutality lawsuit, he knew they possessed enough discretion to keep it inbounds.  
  
"Be sure that's all you do," he cautioned. They glanced at each other and nodded before turning to bolt out the door. Cragen just sighed and pulled out his cell phone to let Munch and Fin know the other pair was on their way.  
  
[tbc] 


	3. chapter three

title: memory - chapter three  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author note: same as it ever was.  
  
disclaimer: ditto.  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squad room -  
  
- Wednesday October 6th 6:04am -  
  
John Munch was in no mood for any kind of pleasantries this early in the morning. He and his partner had only managed to snatch a couple hours of sleep in the crib before they'd been roused by Cragen's call. He'd sounded almost apologetic on the phone, telling John that Elliot and Olivia were making a mad dash for the station house to interview that Farley kid that he and Fin had spent several hours grilling. As much as he felt sorry for them given their situation, he couldn't help but loath them for waking his aging body up so early.  
  
He rifled aimlessly through some of the paper at his desk before glancing across the desk to make a snarky comment to his partner. A predatory grin spread across John's face as he realized Fin was dozing, his chin propped in his hand. The fingers of his other hand rested on his keyboard and if his eyes had been open he would be staring at his monitor. John briefly considered waking him up nicely, but he was grouchy and his partner was the perfect outlet.  
  
He quietly slid his top desk drawer open and rummaged around. After a moment of searching his fingers finally closed over the mini football that a former partner had left behind. He withdrew it and chucked it gently in his partner's general direction.  
  
Fin let out a half-yelp when it collided with his forehead. Hmm, John grinned to himself, he had better aim than he'd given himself credit for. Fin frowned at him. "What the hell was that for?" He sounded as grouchy and ill-tempered as John felt.  
  
John shrugged and gave him a look over the top of his glasses as he replied. "Because you were asleep and made too tempting a target?"  
  
Fin scooped up the mini football from the ground and glared at John. "Your paranoid, bony ass don't need me piling on more threats." He tossed the ball back to John, who managed to catch it.  
  
"You know someone from the Hood who'd be willing to take me out for the right price?"  
  
Fin shook his head at him. "I could get you killed for free. Probably tax-deductible as a public service."  
  
"Good to know I'm that much of a nuisance. But tell me, would you have anyone annoy you except me?"  
  
Fin rolled his eyes at John. "Oh please, I beg Cragen for reassignment every day. I still get no relief from the torment of you."  
  
"Well we're about to be subjected to the torment of Elliot and Olivia, so I'd recommend staying awake for this one."  
  
"I hate drama," Fin sighed as he poked his keyboard.  
  
"Who doesn't? They're not making a big production out of it though, so maybe we shouldn't either," John suggested. They hadn't said a word about it in the two days they'd been back to work. He'd expected at the very least an abundance of awkward silences on both their parts, but even through the paper work they'd been stuck on they'd seemed willing to speak to each other.  
  
"It's not that I'm making a big deal out of it, I just don't know what to say to them. I don't want to say the wrong thing and set them off."  
  
"We should just treat them normally. They'll let us know if anything's out."  
  
"Normal huh? So I guess Cragen sending them home and having us interrogate their suspect is normal?"  
  
John shook his head at that. "No, definitely not. The captain's just trying to do what he thinks is right. Wonder what's bringing them to the station house this early?"  
  
Fin shrugged as he glanced past John. "Must be pretty damn important. I think they're here already."  
  
John twisted his chair in time to catch sight of the other set of detectives as they rushed by the doors to the squad room. He turned back to Fin and raised his eyebrow. "The captain said the vic was in the hospital after a hit-and-run."  
  
"He think Farley did it?" Fin asked with no small degree of skepticism. They had been with the guy all night.  
  
John pressed his lips together as he thought about the question. "He's not sure, but I guess they are. It happened yesterday afternoon, so it very may well have been him. Want to go watch the show?"  
  
"Hell yeah."  
  
-----  
  
Olivia stared through the glass of the interrogation room at the sleepy and confused Sebastian Farley. She cracked her knuckles as Elliot talked beside her, trying to calm her rage down slightly.  
  
"Look, Liv, we've got no proof it was him so we're going to need to tread carefully here," he advised. Elliot may have lost his initial anger on the drive to the station house, but she hadn't. No way in hell was she going to let Farley get away with this. If he even tried to dick them around, she just might throw him through the mirror.  
  
Elliot sighed at her silence. "Well, if you're going to hit him, at least keep it to the back of his head. And open-palmed smacking, no punching. It'll sting him, but it won't leave a bruise or anything. Want me to throw him against the window for you?"  
  
She laughed as she turned to face him. To a cop it was almost a sweet gesture on his part. "Maybe if he doesn't cooperate for the first few minutes. Where's his lawyer anyway?" Elliot had scanned the guy's file while they were waiting for him to be brought from their holding cells.  
  
"Mommy and Daddy sent the best, even though they're out of the country on vacation. They're somewhere over the Atlantic right now on their way home to help out in person. As for the lawyer they sent, Munch and Fin seemed to have boxed him pretty well out of the questioning. He was there, but they ignored him. If he demands him again, we'll have to bring him back in." Elliot sighed as he flipped open the folder he still held. "I'll get his contact information ready just in case."  
  
"Doesn't mean we can't question him in the meantime."  
  
"If he says no, we don't." Olivia glared at him. "*We* know he did this, but for now it's a gut instinct and we have no evidence to back it up until they can examine his car. Let's not blow our first case back."  
  
Though she didn't let up on the intensity if her glare, she knew he was right. Being violent like she wanted would probably only give him a "police brutality" get-out-of-jail-free card, and that was the last thing she wanted.  
  
"All right," she sighed. "We'll play it cooler." He gave her a relieved half-smile. "For now," she added. "And I get to be bad cop."  
  
"I'd assumed as much," he said dryly. "I'll go in first then?" She nodded and he headed for the door. "Come in whenever you think he's ready for it."  
  
He handed her the files and made a move for the door, opening it and stepping through. The adrenaline began to pound in her veins as the thrill of the hunt took over. Sometimes she thought interrogating and nailing a perp was better than sex. The intrigue, acting, deception. They all sent her into a hyperaware and excited state. Which was ultimately for the best; it meant she was watching her partner's back better.  
  
Through the one-way glass she watched Farley sleepily swing his focus to Elliot, giving him the once over and a yawn. He clearly considered the police beneath him and his body language screamed that they weren't worth his time. He was stretched out in his chair, his arms crossed across his chest and feet beneath the table. Elliot gave him an apologetic grin and settled across from him with his back to Olivia, so she couldn't see his facial expressions any further.  
  
She let herself concentrate entirely on Farley and leaned over to switch on the one-way intercom on the wall. Elliot's voice filtered through the scratchy speakers.  
  
"--sorry about all this, but the detectives that interviewed you last night did a less than thorough job." His voice dripped with disdain for Munch and Fin, completely feigned of course. Every time he had to act out of his own character for the benefit of interrogation, Olivia felt a fresh sense of appreciation for his acting skills. The thought even crossed her mind that maybe he'd missed his calling.  
  
From the vaguely sympathetic look on Farley's face, she surmised he was falling for it. "Well, detective, you really have to eliminate the dead weight. It's the same as any business." Olivia saw Elliot nod vigorously at Farley's word.  
  
"You know, I file complaints about them. But my captain, he just tells me to shut up and get back to work; that these idiots--who can't even question a suspect properly--they have seniority over me." Elliot paused to shake his head. "Why do you think my partner and I were the ones searching your apartment? It's a grunt job! The 'lead detectives' like that would never stoop to such lows."  
  
"Glad he thinks so highly of us." She jumped a little as Munch's dry voice muttered in her ear. She hadn't even heard him and Fin approach. "Although in our defense, we didn't have all the facts in."  
  
"You know what he's doing," Olivia told him as she rolled her eyes.  
  
"I'm just joking, Olivia," Munch said, a hint of worry in his voice. She sighed, knowing full-well the delicate treatment was back. She turned to the older detective, letting her attention swing away from Farley.  
  
"You don't have to treat me like I'm going to break if you say the wrong thing, John." He gave her a mournful look, but didn't say anything. She glanced at Fin and saw the same sympathetic look on his face. "Either of you. Any of you. I am still the same person that I was before and so's Elliot. We just have a bit of a different set of experiences now. It might change our perspective on things a little bit, but who we are has not changed. He and I have and will continue to work out our own issues and do *not* need the rest of you compounding the problem."  
  
Munch had the grace to look properly ashamed, but Fin's mouth had dropped open slightly in astonishment. When he recovered he gave her a small grin and said, "Damn girl. If that's how you want it, that's how we'll play it."  
  
"Good," she said, mirroring his grin and giving a short nod.  
  
"We don't mean to treat you any differently," Munch said, his trademark half-smirk back. "We figured you'd let us know if we were doing anything wrong, and you did. I just wish we could have had this confrontation earlier."  
  
"Or that Elliot could have been a part of it too," Olivia added, turning back to the interrogation room. Elliot was still working his way to Farley's good side and they were having an animated conversation about cutting off dead wood or some other such metaphor. "What the hell's wrong with this guy anyway?"  
  
"You think he was the one who hit his girlfriend with a car?" Fin asked.  
  
"One of his girlfriends, you mean," Munch corrected, glancing at Fin over the top of his glasses. Olivia gave them both an irritated look that she hoped they knew wasn't really aimed at them.  
  
"You mean he has more than one?" she asked. She crossed her arms across her chest as she glared at him through the glass. "Figures."  
  
"Yes. It seems your vic Nichols was just a girl on the side. He's been seeing his childhood playmate, Marna Rivers, since they started college. They grew up next door to each other and everyone expects they'll get married once he graduates. She, not too surprisingly, already works in Farley senior's firm as an analyst." Munch's voice oozed his normal sarcasm. "I hate love stories like that. Especially when they contain a sordid love affair."  
  
"I don't think Lida knew she was a 'sordid love affair,' as you so succinctly put it," Olivia said, frowning as she thought through her previous conversations with the woman. "She seemed genuine in thinking that her relationship with Farley was going somewhere. I think she loved him and was under the impression that he reciprocated."  
  
"When there's drug abuse involved, there's no love for the addict except for the drug," Fin added. "And I hate love stories where the guy beats the crap out of a girl and rapes her."  
  
"I think we all do, Fin," Olivia sighed. Most of her anger had disappeared; perhaps it would be a good time to enter the room. She could still tap into her rage, but she could control it. "I'm going in, wish me luck."  
  
"Good luck," Munch said, nodding as she passed by him for the door. She took a deep breath and flung it open, ready to raise hell.  
  
[tbc] 


	4. chapter four

title: memory - chapter four  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author note: ayup. liv's pissed. i'd stay out of her way.  
  
disclaimer: are you guys sure you want such an emotional mess back? i mean, i'm just playing with her for now, but are you 100% positive? cause i'll keep her for ya. i *am* her love slave after all.  
  
-----  
  
When the door burst open Elliot nearly fell out of his chair. He'd been on the edge expecting it, but Olivia's violent explosiveness hadn't quite been what he was anticipating. From the thunderous expression on her face, she was going to revel in playing bad cop today. Farley was a piece of slime that deserved jail time for the rest of his life, but Elliot could almost find it within himself to feel pity.  
  
Farley had been almost congenial when discussing how best to run things from the business side. Elliot had naturally slipped in a bit of a misogynist twist and Farley had responded almost eagerly. His father seemed to have trained him well in all aspects of life, Elliot had reflected at the time.  
  
Now, staring down the fiery Olivia, Farley actually quaked a little bit. In fact, if Elliot didn't already know her so completely, he'd probably be scared shitless of her too. And he wasn't even the target of her anger. There was even a part of him that worried she wasn't acting. Her brown eyes, usually so full of compassion and strength, were overflowing with hostility.  
  
"You can quit buddying up to my partner," she announced, her voice oozing with indignant anger as she hoisted a file folder into the air. "We're going to have to add attempted murder to your charges. Did you honestly think we were going to miss the fact that your girlfriend was hit by a car yesterday? Conveniently just before you showed up at your house."  
  
Elliot decided to feign ignorance of the situation. "What the hell are you talking about, Benson?" Her eyes flicked to him at his use of her last name, but she didn't skip a beat.  
  
"Your friend here thought maybe he could get out of the rape charges by killing his girlfriend. C'mon Stabler, you didn't get sucked into that friendly bit of his, did you?" She snorted derisively. "Why the hell am I still stuck with a dim-witted, low-level detective like you is beyond me. I must've pissed the wrong people off somewhere along the line--"  
  
"That's *enough*, Benson," Elliot snapped. He had to resist the smile that threatened to break out at the glare she gave him. Played to the hilt, Olivia, he silently applauded.  
  
"Fine," she snapped back. "You get him to talk about it, since you two seem so close and all. I'll be doing something worthwhile with my time."  
  
She spun on her heel and stalked out the door, slamming it so hard behind her the mirror shuddered. Elliot stared at the door for a moment, then sighed dramatically as he turned back to Farley. "You see what I deal with every day?"  
  
Farley nodded somewhat knowingly, though his eyes were still wide. "She's a real bitch, isn't she?"  
  
Elliot rolled his eyes and said, "Grade A. I don't suppose you want to save me some trouble and give me an alibi for yesterday?" He said it as hopefully as he could, though he almost choked on the words.  
  
Farley leaned low across the table, a conspiratorial look in his eyes. "Only since you've been so nice and I know what it's like to have to deal with whores like that," he said, gesturing at the wall behind Elliot. Elliot clenched his hands in fists together under the table to avoid punching the smug son of a bitch in the face.  
  
"Lida is one of the girls I've been seeing on the side. I was with Marna, my soon-to-be fiancee. I had to explain what was going on."  
  
"Mmm," Elliot mumbled, jotting it down on the notepad in front of him. "Were you with her all afternoon?"  
  
"Maybe? I don't know."  
  
Elliot eyed him suspiciously. "How do you not know?" he probed.  
  
"I just don't," Farley shrugged. "And I'm not answering any more questions without my lawyer."  
  
"Okay." Elliot managed to nod agreeably, even though he wanted to wring the little shit's neck. "I'll go see about getting him down here. You know it'll look better on you if you just talk without your lawyer for now. Asking for him makes you look guilty."  
  
Farley gave another small shrug and a smirk. "Appearances and actualities are two different entities, Detective."  
  
Elliot rose and pressed his lips together in the closest thing to a smile he could muster. Farley's smirk turned into an impudent grin and he gave him a mock salute as he headed for the door. Elliot's Marine training screamed for him to turn around and knock his teeth into the back of his throat, but self-control won out as he managed to leave the room without looking back once.  
  
He shut the door lightly behind him and turned to face Olivia, only to find himself staring down three detectives instead.  
  
"John, Fin," he said sociably before addressing just his partner. "Damn, Liv, I could almost see your horns sprouting in there."  
  
She gave him a predatory grin. "Can I go back in or do you think he's lawyered up completely?"  
  
Elliot shook his head. "We try to get anything else out of him and I think he'll scream police brutality."  
  
"Not to mention abuse of his Constitutional rights," Munch interjected dryly. "We 'incompetents' will stay here with him if you two want to check anything out again. Like his car." One eyebrow arched suggestively in their direction and Elliot could practically feel Olivia bristling next to him. Slipping a restraining hand to her elbow, he quickly spoke for both of them.  
  
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea to me," he said, shoving gently against her arm to get her to look at him instead of Munch. "You want to head down to impound?"  
  
It took her a moment to answer and he could see the anger licking like flames in her eyes. "Sure," she finally said. "We can hurry along whatever examinations we need to nail him while we're there."  
  
Without another word she broke his grip and stalked away, leaving a palpable trail of irritation in her wake. Elliot watched her go for a moment, then turned back to face the other pair with a genuinely apologetic look on his face. "Sorry about her. I think this first case back is hitting her a little too hard."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Fin said, offering an understanding clap on the shoulder. "We all get that way sometimes." He didn't say it, but Elliot could hear the inevitable "especially with all that's happened to you both" hanging in the air. He resisted heaving a sigh, and instead followed in his partner's path out the door.  
  
Before the door shut behind him he heard Munch's voice drift out. "And I thought she wasn't mad at us any more. Keep me off that rollercoaster of emotion, will you?"  
  
-----  
  
Elliot watched Olivia carefully as he turned the ignition in the sedan. She was staring at the dashboard with a stony gaze that he found himself fervently hoping wouldn't be turned on him any time soon. Still, she was his partner and it was his responsibility to figure out what was wrong. Not like he needed her to tell him; he knew her better than that.  
  
She'd never really had a reaction to their...mutual rape is what he supposed he should call it. He'd fought with his demons, was still fighting them in fact. But she'd been cool and collected, only displaying emotion to get him to confront his. Or at the little things. She'd explode at the slightest provocation, and it wasn't always the same thing. Munch's comment led him to believe they'd talked while he was interrogating their perp. Perhaps worked a few things out. But then he'd raised his eyebrow suggestively and it had been all Elliot could do to keep her from going ballistic. Even if she'd only thought he was intruding too much on their investigation, she was overreacting.  
  
"So you want to talk about it?" She turned her sharp gaze to his face and all the tension drained out of her eyes.  
  
"Talk about what?" she asked neutrally.  
  
He internally scoffed at her denial. "About why you're so damn upset about the slightest thing lately."  
  
"It's nothing."  
  
"Nothing?" He shook his head at her. "Olivia I've got to be honest with you. If this is your way of dealing with the rape then I don't think you should be back at work yet."  
  
"It's not..." she started, trailing off as if she had more she wanted to say. She took a deep breath. "What if it is, Elliot?" She didn't sound defiant. Scared actually would have been more appropriate. "I talked things out with John and Fin, and then the instant I walked into the interrogation room, I felt my control slipping. I had to tap into my rage for a moment and it just overwhelmed me." Her gaze slid back to the dashboard as she hunched over, her posture screaming defeat.  
  
"Hey, it's okay," he said comfortingly. He reached out his hand and rubbed her shoulder. "I'm here to help you deal with this, Liv. I'm your partner."  
  
"And so much more," she mumbled. The darkness of his replying chuckled surprised him. She glanced back up at him and he wasn't surprised to see unshed tears brightening her eyes. "What the hell are we, anyway?"  
  
Lovers without the sex. Best friends with too much emotion. Married without the vows. Partners with more than affection. Rapist and victim. No, victims of the same rape. God but this was confusing. "I don't know," he told her.  
  
"Elliot, this might sound strange," she said, giving him a look that clearly said he should hear her out. "Have you been having trouble sleeping?"  
  
He shrugged. That wasn't so strange. "Of course I have."  
  
"Did you fall asleep last night?"  
  
"Only when I was on the couch," he said, squinting as he thought about it. "With you," he added. Her mouth twisted into a wry half-grin.  
  
"If I asked you to sleep with me would you take it the wrong way?"  
  
He laughed for a moment before realizing she was serious. "You're right, this does sounds strange."  
  
"I'm not propositioning you or anything," she grimaced, although they had both certainly tried in the past.  
  
"It's really too bad we never try to get each other into bed at the same time," he said, sniggering slightly. "We always seem to be about a week away from each other in the desperate need to sleep with each other."  
  
"Elliot," she said disapprovingly. "Try to take this seriously."  
  
"How seriously am I supposed to take you wanting to sleep with me?"  
  
"I haven't slept in a week, Elliot. The last time I had a good night's sleep was when I was with you."  
  
He sighed. Now that he thought about it, the last time he'd had anything remotely resembling a good night's sleep was when they'd had it out and fallen asleep on the floor. Together. And then when he'd woken up he'd taken her into her room and she'd asked him to stay. Really when you got down to it, just trying it once couldn't hurt anyone.  
  
"I guess we could try it tonight," he finally said. "Can't hurt, right?"  
  
"Great, thanks Elliot," she said, glancing down at the steering wheel. "Are we going to leave any time soon, or shall we just sit here wasting gas."  
  
He nodded, turning back to the duties of driving. He'd shifted the car into drive and had it rolling smoothly along the street for a good ten seconds before what they'd just decided fully hit him.  
  
"Liv?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Did we just make the conscious decision to sleep together?"  
  
"I think so, yes."  
  
"And I thought our relationship couldn't get any more screwed up."  
  
[tbc] 


	5. chapter five

title: memory - chapter five  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author's note: "grrr. argh." -mutant enemy thingie. that's how i feel about writer's block.  
  
disclaimer: these characters and the above statement aren't mine. blah blah blah.  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squad Room -  
  
- Wednesday October 6th 11:00am -  
  
Cragen was just putting the finishing touches on the dry erase board when Elliot and Olivia walked through the squad room doors, their heads together in deep discussion. He smoothed down the edges of the victim's picture above the timeline of her movements as he mentally double-checked his times, diligently ignoring the pair of detectives that plunked themselves in their desk chairs not three feet from him.  
  
"Examination couldn't find anything on Farley's SUV, Captain," Elliot said. Ignoring could only go so far when you had a case to work on.  
  
"Doesn't completely rule him out, but it looks bad for our case against him," Olivia added, her tone somewhat defeatist. Cragen studied her downcast face and wished he could give her some better news than what he had in store.  
  
"It gets worse. His real girlfriend alibi-ed him for the time of the hit and run yesterday," he said, aiming his dry erase marker at the timeline. A separate flow for Farley was lined up with the vic's. "She places him in her apartment at 5:45, the time of the H-and-R."  
  
"My gut still says Farley did this," Elliot commented as he rocked back and forth in his chair, hands crossed behind his head. "She's gotta be lying to cover him."  
  
"Or this really was a hit and run," Cragen said with a sigh. He hated to trample on his detectives' instincts, but sometimes coincidences really were just coincidences.  
  
Olivia's despondent look quickly turned into a glower and Cragen felt himself startle a bit at the passion of it. Elliot moved in his line of vision to her face, and Cragen turned back to the board, choosing not to call her on it. He hated to do it, but certain exceptions were just going to have to be made, whether she liked it or not. John had pulled him aside before the other pair had come in to describe his conversation with her and Fin. He wouldn't let this go on indefinitely, but it was sounding more and more like Olivia was having more trouble dealing with her issues than she was letting on.  
  
He could hear the soft, indistinct murmur of Elliot's calming voice behind him, so he busied himself with just studying the board in front of him. Elliot knew her probably better than she knew herself; Cragen was thus reassured that he would keep her in check as best he could. He trusted Elliot to come to him if it ever became a real issue that interfered with her ability to do her job. Three months ago, maybe not, but the two of them had changed and Cragen didn't doubt Elliot would do whatever he thought was in Olivia's best interests, whether she liked it or not.  
  
"We'll head out and check the girlfriend's story again," Elliot finally said. "Any specifics we should be aware of?"  
  
"Yeah," Munch said from his slouched position in his chair. "She has an unflagging devotion to a man that, by all accounts, she should hate. You'll find her tighter-lipped than the big grocery chains and how they track your purchases and use the information against you."  
  
Cragen blinked at him, hoping his incredulity wasn't overtly obvious. He almost hated to ask... "They're doing what, John?"  
  
"With all the little shopper cards you're offered. They track what you purchase and give you coupons based on it."  
  
"And that's...bad?" John stared at him as if it were the most apparent thing in the world.  
  
"They then sell the information to the government and--" He was cut off by a chorus of groans from his partner, Elliot and Olivia. "What?!"  
  
"We're going to get out of here while we still can," Elliot said, rising quickly. "The crazy might be catching today."  
  
"Hey, you'd feel the same way if you just knew the facts about it," John protested.  
  
"'Sides, John hasn't gotten his beauty sleep," Fin said. He snickered when John shot him an annoyed look.  
  
"You could always come with us, Captain," Olivia offered as she followed Elliot to the coat rack. Her voice was surprisingly clear of its previous rancor. "Escape those two clowns for at least an hour."  
  
"'Those two clowns' are going out interviewing the witnesses from the hit and run," Cragen said, giving them both a pointed look. "The squad room will be nice and quiet and maybe I can get some work done for once." He pointed at the door. "All of you, out."  
  
John and Fin moved to leave with only a small amount of grumbling, but Olivia hung back, gesturing Elliot to go ahead. She took a deep breath as she approached him.  
  
"Yes, Olivia?" he asked. She exhaled sharply before answering.  
  
"I just wanted to apologize for my behavior, Captain. I shouldn't be taking out my anger over this case on you."  
  
He snorted at that. "I know what you're angry about, Olivia, and it isn't this case. Don't worry about it. If you need any more time off, just let me know."  
  
She opened her mouth like she had something to say, but closed it quickly. She sighed and said, "Thanks, Captain. I think I'll be okay though."  
  
"You and Elliot doing okay?"  
  
"Yeah, we're fine. Still working things out, but we're fine."  
  
"My door's always open if you need to talk about anything," he said. She gave him a grateful smile.  
  
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." She turned to go and he let her, smiling at her retreating back. Whether Elliot had told her to apologize or not, it was still a step in the right direction. He just hoped they kept moving that way.  
  
- 201 West Georgia Avenue -  
  
- Wednesday October 6th 11:45am -  
  
"She lives here?" Elliot's shock registered clearly in his voice as he appraised the building in front of which they stood. It was a gorgeous three-story brownstone easily twice as wide as the typical New York building.  
  
"She still lives with her parents," Olivia said, consulting her notes before squinting up at the imposing facade. "That must mean one of the other ones around here is Farley's parents' house." They glanced around before looking at each other and shrugging.  
  
"Want me to take the lead in questioning?" Elliot asked as they moved for the front door.  
  
"If you want to," Olivia said. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as they walked, observing the way he walked with his gaze directed at the pavement. He never used to walk that way, she thought sadly. Elliot's body language had always screamed confidence before. Now he looked only half-awake and most of the way to defeated. Maybe that would change when they both started sleeping again.  
  
Oh God. She'd almost forgotten entirely. They were going to sleep together tonight. The thought almost stopped her short, but she managed to keep going with only a slight hitch in her step. She felt a steadying hand on her arm and followed it back to its gently smiling owner.  
  
"You okay there, partner?" Elliot asked, arching his eyebrow at her. "Did you trip or something?"  
  
"Or something," she muttered. "I'm okay, thanks." Shit, but this was going to be a long day.  
  
[tbc]  
  
soon! i swear! 


	6. chapter six

title: memory - chapter six  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author's note: see? i said soon!  
  
disclaimer: ya know my 21st birthday is coming up in july...i sure know what i could use as a gift!  
  
-----  
  
The door to the Rivers' brownstone was answered by a maid who made Elliot and Olivia wait on the doorstep while she went to fetch their perp's girlfriend, Marna. Olivia watched Elliot take out his notebook and pen while they were waiting. He doodled in the margins until the girl got to the door. He reached into his coat pocket as she opened the glass-paneled oak and pulled out his badge.  
  
"Marna Rivers?" The red-headed woman nodded, so he continued. "My name is Detective Elliot Stabler, this is my partner, Detective Benson. We're just checking on Sebastian Farley's alibi for yesterday. Where were you yesterday afternoon?"  
  
The woman gave Olivia a quick glance before turning her attention to Elliot. "I was home with my boyfriend." Though her voice was steady, her eyes wavered slightly. Elliot scribbled something down in his notebook before continuing.  
  
"Mm-hmm. Until when?"  
  
"I guess about seven?" This time her voice wavered too. Olivia jumped in to press her further.  
  
"'You guess?' What were you doing?"  
  
"Look I already explained this when I came in to see Sebastian earlier," Marna said defensively. "Why do we have to go through this again? Seb didn't hurt anyone!"  
  
"We're only trying to get to the bottom of all this. Now," Elliot said calmly, "just tell us what you were doing and we'll be out of your hair."  
  
"That's none of your business," Marna snapped. Her eyes flew almost accusingly to Olivia. "You're a woman, don't you understand that?"  
  
"Sure," Olivia answered, a sarcastic smirk twisting her mouth. "But what I do in my private time has no bearing on an investigation into a rape and assault. Unfortunately, what you do does, and we need to know."  
  
"Fine," the other woman spat. "Sebastian came over to explain the situation. I was upset at first, but I know it wasn't his fault."  
  
"Not his fault?" She wanted to say more, but she felt the brush of Elliot's fingertips across her sleeve. He wanted her to keep quiet and keep her furious disbelief under control. Okay, she could do that.  
  
"What exactly did your boyfriend tell you?" he asked, not a hint of anger in his voice. Olivia shifted forward to scan his face and read the unmistakable signs of it there. Maybe they weren't obvious to someone who didn't know him, but she saw it in his narrowed eyes and in lips pressed tightly over teeth.  
  
"He said he'd slept with another woman, that she was crying rape because of his money. I forgave him for that, and we made love. Are you satisfied now?" Without another word she slammed the door in their faces. Elliot turned to look at Olivia and she wasn't surprised to see a look of disgust on his face. Judging from the emotions that tugged in her gut, she didn't doubt it mirrored her own expression.  
  
Her judgments were cut off as her cell phone rang. "Benson," she answered. It was Cragen.  
  
"You and your partner get over to St. Katherine's. Lida Nichols just woke up."  
  
"We're on it." She snapped her phone shut and met Elliot's curious eyes. "Our vic just woke up. Now maybe we can get some answers."  
  
- St. Katherine's -  
  
- 12:23pm -  
  
Olivia cautiously poked open the door to Lida's post-op recovery room. She knocked lightly and watched the still form under the sheets for any signs of response. If it weren't for the monitors beeping reassuringly, Olivia could easily believe the girl to be dead. When no response was forthcoming, she stepped back in the hall to where her partner waited.  
  
"It looks like she's asleep," she said.  
  
Elliot grimaced and looked around the hallway. "Where's her doctor?"  
  
"Guess we can ask at the desk," Olivia suggested, making a move to do so.  
  
A voice from behind them halted their progress. "Excuse me." They both turned to face the owner of the voice. A dark-haired man stood behind them, one hand shoved deep in the pocket of his white coat while the other clutched a chart. He looked rather young; couldn't be more than 35. "Can I help you?" he asked blandly.  
  
"We're from the Manhattan SVU," said Elliot as he flashed his shield. "I'm Detective Stabler, this is my partner, Detective Benson. We're looking for this patient's--" he pointed at Lida's door "--doctor."  
  
"Well, you've found him," the man replied with an easy grin directed at Olivia. "Dr. Aaron Radhe." He offered his hand first to Olivia, who shook it politely. She was in no mood to both deflect flirtation or deal with a jealous Elliot. She remembered the last time a guy had asked her out in front of him. It hadn't been a pleasant experience for the other man involved, especially when the rest of the squad had gotten into harassing the poor kid. Or at least she suspected they had; she'd never found any direct evidence.  
  
When the doctor offered his hand to Elliot, Olivia wasn't surprised to see Elliot give him a tighter squeeze than was his usual. Dr. Radhe frowned as he turned to face the observation window into Lida's room. Olivia elbowed Elliot in the ribs as the doctor launched into an explanation of her condition, earning a slightly contrite look from him.  
  
"Lida suffered a great deal of trauma to the head when she was hit. She was thrown away from the car, so she wasn't run over, but she probably hit her head on the pavement when she landed. She has a broken arm and some fractured ribs, but her physical injuries could have been a lot worse. The head trauma is what worries me. I was anticipating some memory loss, and with her drifting in and out of consciousness like this, it's probably too soon to draw and definite conclusions."  
  
"Are you saying she doesn't remember being raped?" Elliot asked.  
  
"No, detective, that's the last thing she remembers," Dr. Radhe said, turning back to face them. His face was a mask of worry and concern. "I checked our records to be sure, but she came in yesterday morning reporting a rape."  
  
"Yes, we're the detectives on her case," Olivia interjected.  
  
"Well every time she wakes up, she tells us she needs to report a rape. That her boyfriend beat her up and took advantage of her while he was high on cocaine."  
  
"Yes, we already have him in custody," Elliot said. Olivia could sense her partner's patience was wearing thin.  
  
"Has she lost her memory of yesterday?" she quickly asked.  
  
"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "But I think there's a more serious problem here. I'm going to have to run a few more tests and keep her under observation for a while to be sure."  
  
"Out with it, doc," Elliot said. "What's wrong with her."  
  
"I think she's lost the ability to form new memories."  
  
"You mean the last thing she's going to remember for the rest of her life is...her rape?" Olivia asked, appalled by the horrifying prospect.  
  
"Perhaps. It's not guaranteed, and I hope for her sake I'm wrong. This is only my preliminary diagnosis, but it's a strong possibility." He moved past them. "If you'll excuse me, her parents are in the waiting room."  
  
"When will we be able to question her?" Olivia asked, hating the way her voice cracked and hating herself for having to ask the question.  
  
"Maybe tomorrow, but I don't want to push her. Her mind's been through enough stress between a rape by a loved one and being hit by a car."  
  
"We understand," Elliot said, nodding. "Give us a call when you think she's ready. It's got be soon, but I think we still have enough to charge her rapist." He handed the doctor his card.  
  
"I thought you said you had him in custody?"  
  
"We do, but we still have to charge him," Olivia explained. "We're nearing the 24 hour mark where we have to charge him or let him go."  
  
"We should be able to charge him later with vehicular assault if it was him," Elliot added.  
  
"You think her boyfriend did this? On purpose?"  
  
"Yes, and we'd appreciate your discretion in not telling her parents," Olivia quickly said.  
  
"Of course." The doctor looked visibly shaken. He waved Elliot's card and said, "I'll give you a call the instant I think she's ready."  
  
"Thank you," Olivia said. She watched him turn and go before looking back at Elliot. She could tell all his jealousy was forgotten. "This case just keeps getting worse and worse."  
  
[tbc]  
  
a/n: inspiration for this was drawn from a star trek episode, not an adam sandler movie ;) 


	7. chapter seven

title: memory - chapter seven  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author's note: so many plotbunnies, so little motivation. i'm such a lazy-ass. anyway, this'll be the first chapter under the series' new name: The Accidentals Series. i figured it was about time i gave it a name so i could stop calling it 'my AU thingie.' see the full description i added to the beginning of 'Religious Ecstasy' on svufiction.com if you want the explanation.  
  
disclaimer: they're not mine. what are you gonna do about it?  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squad Room -  
  
- Wednesday October 6th 6:20pm -  
  
"This bites ass," Olivia pronounced as she slammed the file folder closed on her desk. Elliot resisted the need to sigh in exasperation at her actions; she'd done it, with variations on the statement of course, at least twice in the past hour.  
  
"Funny," he said, arching his eyebrow at her. "I never pictured you'd be the type to resort to childish phrases when you're angry."  
  
"I'm not angry," she said in a silky tone. "I'm pissed off. Slight difference."  
  
He rolled his eyes and asked, "Should I even take a guess at what the difference is?"  
  
"Don't strain yourself; I'm more articulate when I'm angry." She smiled at him as he let the insult slide and returned to work. He'd given up on the Nichols case a couple hours ago and turned his attention to the preliminary work on a couple other rape cases in the files, but Olivia had let her focus remain on their first case. He knew she was feeling outrage for the victim, but there was only so far a detective could safely take his or her empathy before it became dangerous. He doubted ignoring it would make it go away, but until he finished up working on the other cases he wasn't going to let it bother him.  
  
They worked in silence for a few more minutes before Olivia had another outburst, this one not quite in the direction of the first.  
  
"Take me out dancing tonight."  
  
"What?" He glanced up from his papers, startled by her command.  
  
"I said--"  
  
"I know what you said," he cut off. "But why?" He flashed a slightly subdued leer in her direction. "I'm already sleeping with you tonight," he added, his voice lowered and teasing. He knew even what even a half-leer did to her and he thoroughly enjoyed seeing her tied in knots. Though from the expression on her face, perhaps he should reconsider sleeping with her tonight out of an interest in leaving the bed unscathed in the morning. He could tell she knew exactly what he was doing.  
  
"You can just take me out to the living room," she said, glaring at him. "But I want to dance."  
  
"We haven't danced in a long time," he acknowledged. "I wouldn't mind a quick spin around the coffee table." Besides, they had always hashed out cases or talked about whatever crossed their minds; maybe he could bring up the idea of therapy. God knew they both needed it.  
  
"Some Prince Charming," Olivia scoffed. "Can't even take me out dancing properly."  
  
"I wouldn't be caught dead dancing the tango with you," he said, smirking.  
  
"Too late," she said, nodding in the Munch's general direction. He let out a single, quiet chuckle.  
  
"I'd forgotten about that. What with, well, you know." He waved his hand in the air.  
  
"Yeah, I know. Take me out dancing."  
  
"You have such a one-track mind."  
  
"At least I know what I want."  
  
-----  
  
"I still can't believe you wouldn't take me out." Elliot had to study Olivia's face closely to make sure it wasn't genuine grousing, but was only half-relieved to find a relaxed look on her face. The fact that he couldn't tell any more when she was seriously upset and when she wasn't worried him.  
  
"Well, you know me. Any time I can avoid being seen with you in public's a good thing." She laughed at him as he dipped her down. They'd only been dancing for a couple minutes, but already they'd both gotten back into the rhythm of it. It had been a long time since they'd danced with each other, but it was like riding a bicycle; the skill never really left you once you learned how. Oh sure the skill level decreased, he mused as he almost slammed them into the wall, but the skill was still there.  
  
"Miss the fact that there's a wall there?"  
  
"I was entranced by the pretty colors."  
  
"No, in all seriousness, El. You seem distracted." She was looking at him with concern. He could imagine it was how he'd been looking at her lately.  
  
"Well there is something kind of important I wanted to talk about, now that you mention it." He pulled her into a slower dance. "You have to promise not to get upset though, no matter what I suggest."  
  
"If you're going to try to move out again, I make no promises."  
  
He laughed and shook his head. "No, no I don't want to move out. And I don't know if I ever apologized for the way I tried to do that before--"  
  
"No, you didn't," she said quickly. He was almost amused by her unspoken demand and decided to acquiesce to it.  
  
"Then allow me to do it now. I'm sorry for doing that. It was immature and though I told myself it was best for you, I was subconsciously trying to avoid being condemned by you." He drew in a heavy breath before finishing. "That would have crushed me."  
  
"I would never have condemned you, Elliot," she said softly. "You have to know that."  
  
"I do now, yes, but I wasn't thinking very clearly then. In fact," he said, hoping to get her to agree quickly, "I was thinking that maybe we should both get some help. See a counselor on our own, you know?"  
  
"I don't need a counselor, Elliot; I just need you."  
  
He didn't speak for a moment, surprised by her declaration. It wasn't totally unexpected, but neither had he thought it the thing she'd say. He knew she had an almost pervasive need to be around him -- and if he let himself really explore his thoughts, he knew he'd find that he felt the same need to be around her too -- but to have her reject a counselor in favor of him was definitely not healthy.  
  
"Look, Liv, you know I can only do so much for you. And I'm really not the best person to talk to about how you feel about me. That's something you need to take a good, hard look at too." She pressed her face into his shoulder and he felt her warm sigh through his shirt. Why did their emotions have to be so damn complicated?  
  
She raised her head. "Oh, did I tell you Alex called earlier? She wanted to tell us Farley's out on $500,000 bail."  
  
"That's fascinating, but don't change the subject," he chided.  
  
"I was just thinking we could pay him a visit tomorrow and tell him the full extent of his victim's injuries."  
  
"Olivia," he warned.  
  
"Sorry. Can't help it." He locked his eyes with hers and gave her an encouraging smile. "Maybe you're right. That doesn't mean I want to do this, but maybe I should."  
  
He felt lighthearted at that, like there'd been a fist squeezing around his chest and the pressure had suddenly let up. He'd been so worried she'd fight him on this he'd barely considered that she'd give in so easily. Hell, with the way she'd been fighting anyone within range of her hearing and voice, he'd been worried he'd have to drag her to a shrink's office against her will. It wouldn't have helped because he knew she had to want the help for it to be effective.  
  
"You look happy," she commented after a few moments of only music.  
  
"I'll be happy as long as we both get the help we need."  
  
"Speaking of help..." she trailed off.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm tired and I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in a very long time."  
  
"Impatient to get into bed with me, aren't you?" Another round of her genuine laughter graced his ears again. He could definitely get used to hearing her cheerful again.  
  
Fifteen minutes later though, as they both stood on opposite sides of Olivia's queen-sized bed, he wasn't so sure the look on her face was entirely happy. In fact, she looked as nervous as he felt. Their eyes met and she let out a nervous giggle.  
  
"Well?" he asked.  
  
"Well, what?"  
  
"We can stand here staring at each other until we have to go to work or we could actually try to go to sleep. This was your idea," he reminded.  
  
"I remember," she said shortly, almost looking like she was regretting suggesting it. Inwardly he laughed at her discomfort, but only as a distraction from the butterflies that were currently beating a furious tempo in his stomach. They continued to stare, despite his words.  
  
"Oh this is ridiculous," she finally heaved out. He exhaled sharply.  
  
"We're both mature adults," he said.  
  
"You'd think we could handle just sleeping in the same bed."  
  
"We can."  
  
"Apparently not."  
  
"Just get in the bed, Olivia."  
  
"You first."  
  
They started staring again, but Elliot couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out. Still laughing, he slid into the bed and made himself comfortable under the sheets. "There."  
  
She gingerly set herself down next to him. "I'm not going to bite," he said, amused now that his tension had broken in the face of how silly they were being. He tugged at the covers just under her crossed legs. "Get under here before I drag you under."  
  
She followed his instructions with a good deal of hesitation, slowly arranging herself next to him. He felt a hint of trepidation as she turned off the light. Was he supposed to stay as far away from her as possible or was he supposed to hold her? He couldn't follow any visual cues in the darkness and he hadn't thought to ask her before. Who needs to ask a question like that anyway?  
  
"Um, Liv?" He reached a tentative hand out, trying to find her shoulder.  
  
"What?" The nervousness in her voice made her sound irritated. At least he knew her angry moods better now to tell the difference.  
  
"What exactly are you...uh...expecting me to do?"  
  
"Uh, not that," she replied and he realized what it had sounded like he was implying.  
  
"No, that's not what I meant," he said quickly. "I meant did you want me over here or did you want me touching you or what?" Jesus, he sounded like a anxious teenager about to get laid for the first time. He hadn't been that in a very long time.  
  
"Well, if you don't mind holding me, I wouldn't mind either." At least she sounded the same way he did. Small consolation really, when he felt like he was making an ass of himself.  
  
"You wouldn't mind it or you want me to?"  
  
"Elliot, just hold me, okay?" Now that was exasperation in her voice. It was going to take forever to fall asleep, he thought as they shifted towards the middle of the bed. He muttered "sorry" a few times as they bumped awkwardly, trying to find a good position. They soon settled into a position they tacitly acknowledged as agreeable and Elliot was surprised to find himself drifting so quickly into a drowsy state. If he'd stayed awake long enough, he probably would have been equally surprised to hear Olivia's quiet, breathy snores that started a minute after he slipped into his own restful sleep.  
  
[tbc]  



	8. chapter eight

title: memory - chapter eight  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author note: mm, i'm such a sappy shipper, but it's so much fun! eternal love to kukrae.  
  
disclaimer: if you see my name in the credits, it's just a fluke and my wildest dreams have come true. and then there'll be lots of nekkid, hawt sex. yes, on network television. my wildest dreams, remember?  
  
-----  
  
Olivia slowly awoke to a feeling of absolute comfort. It was so perfect in fact, that it wasn't until she'd been drowsily awake for a few minutes that she realized her neck had the most God awful crick in it. The pain of it had probably been the thing that woke her up. She tried to roll to relieve the cramping in her muscles but couldn't get very far. Her brain told her she was probably caught in her sheets, so she tugged away harder.  
  
A sleepy grunt startled her out of her lethargic state and she finally processed why she was so warm and comfortable: she was sprawled across Elliot's upper torso, her face buried in his neck. He had both of his arms around her, which explained why she hadn't been able to move. She rested her hand on his chest and propped her chin on it, waiting for him to wake up. He was already starting to shift his head back and forth, stretching out the kinks in his neck and groaning in the back of his throat.  
  
When his eyes finally opened after one particularly vicious pop in his neck she smiled at him. His blue eyes looked gray in the semi-darkness and they widened when they caught sight of her. The muscles in his arms tightened around her in obvious surprise and she resisted the urge to chuckle at his expense. When he finally processed what they were doing in her bed together, she knew because she could feel all the fresh tension drain out his body.  
  
"I think it's safe to say that was a mild surprise for you," she said, still offering him a smile. He returned it, if a bit weaker.  
  
"Quite. You too?" he asked, almost sounding hopeful.  
  
"A bit, yes. I haven't woken up next to someone in a while. What time is it?"  
  
He glanced over to where she knew the luminous red numbers of her alarm clock glowed; she couldn't see because his arm was in the way. "It's almost six-thirty."  
  
"Mmm, so we have a couple minutes before we have to get up." She buried her face in his neck again. It felt so good to have such intimate contact with someone, anyone. The fact that it was Elliot was quite the happy bonus.  
  
"Yeah, but why bother staying in bed if we're awake already?"  
  
"It's comfortable. Don't make me get up," she said, tossing in as much early-morning crossness as she could.  
  
"Tell you what," he said, his warm breath tickling her scalp through her hair. "I'll pay for breakfast."  
  
"You might regret that offer later; I'm starving."  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squad Room -  
  
- Thursday October 7th 8:33am -  
  
"Elliot, Olivia." They'd barely hung up their coats and sat down before Cragen's voice cut across the early morning chatter of the squad room. He appeared next to their desks, a neutral look firmly in place. Elliot thought it was almost like he was trying too hard to be neutral. "There're a couple new rape cases that need your attention. Where are you on the Nichols date rape?"  
  
"We're going to go to the perp's home today, confront him with what's happened to his victim after the hit and run," Elliot answered. "We're thinking maybe it'll guilt him into talking. He's out on $500,000 bail, so there's not much chance it'll work."  
  
"We still have to try," Olivia added.  
  
"There's always the possibility that he really didn't do it," Cragen offered.  
  
"There is that," Elliot acknowledged, biting back his laughter at the hesitancy in his superior's voice. "We still think he did it and that his girlfriend is lying to cover his ass."  
  
"The coincidence is almost too much to swallow." Cragen thought for a moment. "Don't push him too hard on it, but don't give up after a few seconds either. How's the girl doing?"  
  
Elliot met Olivia's eyes for a moment before she suddenly found a pen on her desk fascinating. "We talked to her doctor at the hospital yesterday." He shifted his gaze from Olivia's down-turned face to Cragen's curious one. "He thinks she's got short-term memory loss; that she won't be able to form new memories. The last thing she'll probably remember for the rest of her life is her rape."  
  
Cragen didn't respond for a moment, but Elliot recognized it as the veritable quiet before the storm. He'd had it trained on him often enough for being out of line to know that his captain's anger was simmering before it exploded in a burst of righteous fury. He didn't have to wait for very long.  
  
"Push the son of a bitch as hard as you need to." He headed back to his office without another word.  
  
Elliot smiled grimly at Olivia, who had finally looked back up at him. "Shall we?"  
  
- 243 West Madison Avenue -  
  
- Tuesday October 5th 6:20pm -  
  
Elliot shifted the police sedan into park and turned the car off. He let his hands linger on the keys before pulling them out of the ignition, appraising Olivia as he did so. She was staring out the window with an inscrutable expression on her face. He wasn't sure if it was abject despair or just a muted anger. "Olivia," he said softly.  
  
She turned her head and he realized it had been the former. She was swinging through moods like a kid through a jungle gym. "Let's play this as light as we can. Take the sympathetic mode, okay?"  
  
She gave a quiet sigh that spoke volumes. "You take the lead," she said, shrugging.  
  
"Last time he saw you, you were playing up the bitch card," he reminded. Her eyes shifted as she reached back in her memories for it.  
  
"Right." She considered it for a moment. "I'll just hang back and look bored."  
  
He finally pulled the keys out and pocketed them. "Okay. Your despondency is easily mistakable for boredom anyway."  
  
The corner of her mouth quirked in irritation, but she opened her door and got out without saying anything to him. He sighed, hating how she was a completely different person every day. He knew she needed therapy, and probably sooner than she was going to get it. He moved to get out the car, not even bothering to lock it, given the neighborhood they were in.  
  
He stood shielded behind the car and gazed up at the elegant apartments. Such a beautiful exterior hid at least one man who did criminal and twisted things. He yanked the keys out his pocket and hit the lock button on the key chain.  
  
Olivia had paused on the sidewalk, toeing at a loose rock. He joined her and held her gaze for a moment before moving towards the garage entrance. The apartment building was four stories tall, but had a large garage for the residents and their guests that was halfway aboveground. There wasn't actually a "main" entrance, just the garage one, which was guarded by a security guard hidden away in a small booth next to the driveway.  
  
As they approached, the guard emerged from the booth, his hand resting on his gun. "Evan," Elliot said, nodding to him. They'd made his acquaintance when they'd been here two days ago executing the search warrant. Evan was an imposing black man in his late forties. He'd had to retire from the police force during a department downsizing, but the world of private security had been good to him. He'd been more than friendly enough while they were waiting for the landlord to come down and escort the detectives to Farley's apartment.  
  
"Detectives," Evan said, nodding back. "How goes the investigation?"  
  
"Well enough, I suppose," Elliot said, keeping half of his attention on Olivia, who was staring at a point somewhere a couple inches above Evan's left shoulder. "We're just here to inform Farley about the condition of his girlfriend."  
  
"Watch out," Evan advised, chucking his thumb in the direction of the parked cars. "His 'real' girl's over. Has an attitude like a stray tomcat on the prowl, that one. She yelled at me earlier for not telling Sebastian you were in his apartment when he came home."  
  
"Thanks for the warning," Elliot said with a grin. "We've talked to her already. Slammed the door in our faces."  
  
"How's your vic?" Evan asked.  
  
"Not too well," Olivia interjected, offering the guard an unenthusiastic smile. "She's still in the hospital."  
  
"May have problems with short-term memory loss," Elliot finished.  
  
Evan shook his head regretfully. "She was a nice girl. Always said more than just the polite hello when she came by, which was only a few times mind you." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Best thing about not being an officer anymore is not having to see bad things happen to good people day in and day out. You must have a rough time with it, being in sex crimes and all."  
  
"You don't know the half of it," Olivia muttered. Evan gave her an inquisitive look, but before he could ask Elliot jumped in.  
  
"We've got other cases that demand our attention, so we're just going to be as quick about this as we can. We'll see you on the way back down, Evan." He headed in the direction of the door but Evan called out before he took two steps.  
  
"I need your badge numbers again."  
  
"Can't you just look it up from two days ago?" Elliot asked, fishing out his badge. Next to him Olivia was doing the same.  
  
"Sorry, just policy I have to follow," Evan said, shrugging in apology. He scribbled the numbers down and held out the clipboard to them. "I need you to sign it too."  
  
"Right," Olivia said, taking it first. She signed her name and quickly handed it to Elliot. He smiled at her signature; it resembled the sloppy scrawl she usually slapped at the end of paperwork somewhere around one in the morning. He signed his own name as quickly as he could and handed the clipboard back to Evan.  
  
"You two take care, now," Evan said as he turned towards the sound of a car coming down the driveway.  
  
"You too, Evan," Elliot said, but the man only gave a half-hearted wave over his shoulder, his attention focused completely on the silver Mercedes that was waiting at the closed gate.  
  
"Nice guy," Olivia said, for once no rancorous sarcasm tainting her voice.  
  
"Yeah," Elliot agreed. "Your boredom gameface ready to go?"  
  
"Couldn't be more disinterested. You are, after all, the most idiotic partner a detective could have." Her dull tone was only accented by the deadpan expression on her face.  
  
"You're funny," he said, knowing she was teasing him.  
  
"You think I'm kidding?"  
  
"I think you're acting the part very well, Liv," he said, moving for the door. "Now c'mon. Let's go put your skills to good use."  
  
- Apartment C -  
  
Elliot banged on the door for the second time. "Mr. Farley, open up. It's the police." He glanced at Olivia, who was slumped against the far wall with her arms crossed. She did indeed look thoroughly disinterested with the proceedings. If Farley opened up the door Elliot was sure he'd hear more than one exasperated sigh from her.  
  
He heard movement behind the door before it was jerked partially open, the chain on the back of it stopping it from opening all the way. Farley's face appeared in the crack. "I don't have anything to say to you without my lawyer present."  
  
"We just wanted to give you an update on Lida's condition," Elliot said soothingly.  
  
"I don't care how that bitch is doing. She's ruining my life," Farley sneered. Angry arrogance twisted his handsome face and Elliot's thoughts immediately snapped to the kid's cocaine habit.  
  
"She's suffering from short-term memory loss," he said before Farley could shut the door. He threw his hand out to jam it open as the other man made a move to close it. "The last thing she remembers is Monday night. And that's the last thing she'll remember for a while."  
  
"What does that mean?" Farley asked, the nastiness of his tone slipping. "Is she in a coma or something?"  
  
"No, she's awake," Elliot replied. "She just can't form any new memories. The doctors aren't sure if she'll ever be able to again."  
  
"What are they saying, Sebastian?" Marna's voice rang out shrilly from behind Farley. He turned away from the door and said something in a low, harsh tone to her before returning.  
  
"Stop harassing me before I file a complaint," was all he said before he forced the door closed.  
  
Elliot just shook his head and looked over his shoulder at Olivia. She rolled her eyes and heaved herself away from the wall to walk away. He furrowed his eyebrows and followed in her wake. When they were a few feet away from the apartment door she slowed so they were next to each other.  
  
"He looked higher than a kite," she said.  
  
"I can't believe he's out on bail and using already," Elliot said, hoping his disgust was evident enough. "Maybe his addiction is worse than we thought."  
  
Olivia was quiet for a moment until they'd reached the exit. "I don't understand how his girlfriend is still with him. After knowing what he did?"  
  
"I don't think she believes it," Elliot said as he held the door open for her. "And if she does, why jeopardize her career and her future by breaking up with her boss's son?"  
  
"Still, she's staying with someone who abuses cocaine, raped a woman, and then tried to kill her with his car."  
  
"We don't even know for sure that he did it."  
  
She sighed and looked over the twenty-odd cars in the garage. There were only ten apartments in the whole building, so the small number of cars wasn't surprising.  
  
"I mean, you and I know he did, but..." He trailed off, realizing she wasn't walking beside him anymore. "Olivia?" She'd stopped a few feet behind him.  
  
"There's a black SUV over there," she said, pointing.  
  
"Yeah, it's Farley's Escalade," Elliot replied, squinting in the direction she'd pointed.  
  
"No, his is over there. This one's in guest parking."  
  
He realized it was parked next to the silver Mercedes they'd seen enter earlier under a giant "GUEST PARKING" stenciled in red on the wall. A horrible idea entered his mind and he dismissed it. It tenaciously clung on, his instincts screaming at him. "You don't think..."  
  
"I'll call on the tags," she said, already pulling her cell phone out and striding towards the car. "You ask Evan who it belongs to."  
  
Elliot headed for the guard's booth at a quick jog. "Evan!" he called. The man's head appeared in the window. He looked confused for a second, but stepped out quickly.  
  
"'Lo again, Elliot. Something wrong?"  
  
"The black SUV in guest parking," Elliot said. "Who does it belong to?"  
  
Evan reached back inside his booth and pulled his clipboard out. "Black SUV," he said quietly, running his finger down the list. "Black Ford Explorer, tags 654BV3. Belongs to Marna Rivers. That's Farley's girlfriend." His face twisted into a smirk. "I remember now. She bought it a couple weeks ago so they could match."  
  
Elliot felt his teeth clench involuntarily "Evan, if she tries to leave I need you to stall her any way possible." He raised his head looking for Olivia over the top of a red sports car. She was waving and almost running towards him. He had pulled out his cell phone and hit the button for Cragen's office by the time she reached him.  
  
"Elliot, it's hers."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I think there's even dried blood still on the grill." She looked downright vicious at the prospect. A tendril of worry snaked through his heart before Cragen picked up.  
  
"Cragen," a voice answered in his ear.  
  
"It's Elliot, Captain. We don't think Farley did it anymore."  
  
"The hit and run or everything?"  
  
"Just the hit and run. We just found out his girlfriend has a black SUV too. Olivia says she thinks there's dried blood still on the grill."  
  
"Don't let her car out of your sight," Cragen ordered. "I'll get the warrant to examine her car and have a CSU team down there within the hour. Where are you?"  
  
"Farley's apartment building. 243 West Madison. The garage underneath the building is the only way in. They can't miss it."  
  
"Good job to the both of you on cracking this," Cragen said before hanging up.  
  
Elliot snapped his phone shut and grinned at Evan. "Never mind. We're staying put till CSU shows up."  
  
[tbc]  
  
hey look! a plot! 


	9. chapter nine

title: memory - chapter nine  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author's note: i wanted to have this done a week ago before my vacation, but alas! here it is, how many months after i started it? incredible mad props to kukrae for not killing me over this.  
  
disclaimer: this is the part wherein i say they're 'not mine,' which they aren't. i also wanted to say 'PLATYPUS!!' anyone who can work in that word to a disclaimer and have it make sense is the coolest. obviously, i'm not cool like that.  
  
- Interrogation Room -  
  
- 12:45pm -  
  
Olivia sat as calmly as she could, struggling to keep her stare from becoming a glare. The woman across the table looked more like a scared girl, afraid of the punishment she was sure was coming. If she hadn't looked downright terrified, Olivia would have had a harder time controlling her anger.  
  
She'd felt so strange lately; like nothing in her life quite fit anymore. Her rapidly vacillating moods were confusing her, and from Elliot's behavior she surmised they were throwing him for a loop too. She hadn't actually taken his suggestion of counseling seriously, but maybe she should reconsider. Then again, she was a mature adult trained in how to deal with rape; she didn't need a therapist talking down to her about how she should handle her problems. If she really felt bad about something she just needed to talk to Elliot about it. He always made her feel better.  
  
A slight shift in the table brought her out of her thoughts as Marna settled her hands against it. She caught Olivia's eyes and said, "What are we going to do until my lawyer gets here?"  
  
"I'm not supposed to talk to you," Olivia said, keeping her voice as bland as possible. She masked a glance at the one-way mirror with a stretching motion. She knew Elliot was behind it, perhaps with Cragen too. The three of them had talked before Olivia entered the interrogation room. There was still the possibility that Farley had used his girlfriend's SUV, but from Marna's behavior, Olivia was nearly certain it had been her.  
  
"If you're not supposed to talk to me then what are you doing in here?" Her nerves lent and angry edge to her words, but she seemed a bit stronger, a bit more defiant. Olivia just shrugged; she knew how to deal with irritated suspects.  
  
"I'm just here to keep an eye on you. And in case you decide to waive your rights and want to talk."  
  
"I don't need anyone to 'keep an eye' on me," Marna snorted derisively.  
  
Olivia just pressed her lips together in an unfriendly smile. She wasn't going to screw this up, no matter how many of her buttons Marna tried to push.  
  
"What happens if you talk to me?"  
  
Olivia didn't say a word.  
  
"What would you do if I just started screaming? I bet if I started to insult you you'd talk. Would it be admissible in court if I threatened to have your parents killed?"  
  
She resisted the urge to snicker at that and just smiled benignly. Marna obviously mistook it for a worried grimace because she kept at it.  
  
"Are you married? I could probably have your husband and children murdered too. This is all hypothetically speaking of course. I'd never actually do any of this. Though I suppose threatening to off your partner too would actually do you a favor."  
  
Olivia just rested her chin on her hand and didn't stop staring. Marna lowered her head and gave her a conspiratorial grin. "Seb told me about you and him, you know. I'm sorry you're stuck with such an idiot, truly I am," she half-whispered, though she looked anything but. "Daddy knows some people in the police department if you're interested. I'm sure he could get you a different position."  
  
Olivia bit back the urge to ask if that was hypothetically speaking too. Being a smartass could only lead to problems. Still, she almost felt like she was wasting her time just sitting here. She wished Marna's lawyer would hurry up and get there to demand time alone with his or her client. It would give her an excuse to go out and compare notes with Elliot.  
  
"When's my lawyer getting here?"  
  
Olivia just shrugged again. Not soon enough, she thought.  
  
It was another ten minutes in fact before he showed up. Olivia felt herself freeze up as he strode through the door with a demanding sort of confidence. It was the defense lawyer from her and Elliot's rape case.  
  
"This interview is over, Detective Benson," he said, a mild sneer playing around his words. She gave him equal measure back.  
  
"How'd you land such an expensive client?" she asked.  
  
"Your only experience with me," he said, waiving his hand in the air, "was pro bono work. The average tax bracket of my clients is much higher, I assure you."  
  
Olivia stared at him in open-mouthed shock. "You represented scum like that for free?"  
  
"Please," he said, fake dismay oozing from every inch of his face, "it was an interesting opportunity to work with case law." His features twisted grimly. "Besides, it made for some fun community service."  
  
She ignored his last comment and stood to move to the door. "Well unless this paying client starts talking, she's going down for attempted murder."  
  
"Doubtful," he laughed. "It's clear her boyfriend borrowed her car in an attempt to get rid of a woman accusing him of rape."  
  
Through their entire exchange, Marna had sat quietly, wide eyes swinging back and forth as each of them spoke. But at Dayton's suggestion of Farley's guilt, she leaped to her feet, protesting violently. "No! No! It wasn't Sebastian!"  
  
"Marna, just sit down and don't say a word. I'll have you out of here soon enough."  
  
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Olivia said, resting her hand on the doorknob. "We found dried blood on the grille of your Explorer. All we have to do is match it to the vic and we can nail your ass to the wall." She eyed Marna closely. "And don't expect any help from your boyfriend. We called him earlier; seems his story's changed."  
  
The fearful look on her face prompted an explanation. "He only recalls being with you until four o'clock. We pulled his phone records to confirm his new story. He was on the phone with his parents at the time you told us you were having make-up sex."  
  
"That's uncalled for," the lawyer interjected coolly.  
  
Olivia twisted the doorknob savagely. "You better figure out her story because she's about to get passed off to Homicide, and those ADAs aren't nearly as nice as ours about making deals."  
  
She threw the door open and stepped through, slamming it shut behind her. She wasn't too surprised to find Alex and Cragen waiting next to Elliot, but she fixed her gaze on her partner alone.  
  
"What's he doing here?" Her derogatory emphasis on the pronoun left no doubt as to whom she was referring. Elliot's careless shrug was only skin-deep, and he couldn't hide the pain in his eyes from her. In an instant she'd shoved aside her hurt surprise at seeing the man who'd defended their rapist. She felt a momentary wave of guilt for not dealing with her emotions; it was making her a bitch to deal with, she knew. She promised herself she'd get as much therapy after this case as Elliot wanted her to get. It rang slightly hollow, even in her mind, but it assuaged the guilt. For now.  
  
"Let's just forget about him," she said. She turned and gave Alex a small smile. "We're passing this off anyway, right?"  
  
Alex's blond hair bobbed as she dipped her head. "Much as I'd love the personal satisfaction of convicting her myself, this is Homicide's domain. They'll finish up the investigation and then their ADA can handle it."  
  
"You'll try Farley, though?" Elliot asked.  
  
"He may be out on bail, but I've got the city's most sympathetic victim. My only problem will be prepping her for trial."  
  
"If anyone can do it, you can, Alex," Cragen offered.  
  
"The fact that the rest of the evidence is nearly ironclad doesn't hurt," Alex said with a self-deprecating smile. She raised her eyebrows in Olivia's direction and she realized Elliot had moved to lean against the wall next to her. "I'll call you two about your testimony soon?"  
  
Olivia glanced at Elliot, wondering if he'd deliberately moved closer or if he'd just gravitated to her unconsciously. Deciding it didn't really matter, she turned back to Alex and nodded. "And tell whoever gets her case we'll be expecting a call from them too."  
  
"I'm sure they wouldn't accept it any other way."  
  
"I want you two to take her down to processing," Cragen said, giving them an impenetrable look. "They'll get her to the right people in Homicide." He looked at Alex and gestured to the door. She nodded a good-bye before falling into step behind him.  
  
Olivia watched them go for a moment before turning back to her partner. "You don't want to give this case up, do you?" he asked her.  
  
She smiled, well aware of his new found sensitivity to her. "I suppose not, but I don't mind it nearly as much as I was expecting to. Maybe I'm just tired of dealing with the callous cruelty all these kids seem to display towards one another."  
  
"In any case," Elliot said as he pushed away from the wall, "they're not really our problem any more."  
  
"Still," she said quietly, wondering if now was the right time to discuss his suggestion of therapy, which had been hovering in the back of her mind. If she broached the subject now while she had the willpower, she couldn't back off from it and avoid it like she knew she would. "Still, I think I have some..." she trailed off, half-heartedly stabbing the air with her hand.  
  
"Problems?" Elliot filled in helpfully.  
  
"Big ones. Every time I should have a valid emotional reaction I keep it back, only to explode later at something I shouldn't."  
  
"I've already talked to Cragen about exercising our counseling options," Elliot said with a wary grin. She felt the familiar surge of irritation, but from his expression she knew he'd expected it. She restrained her impulses, squared her shoulders, and smiled.  
  
"Well, let's get her down to processing so we can discuss it more and move on to our new cases. Didn't we get assigned that molestation case that came in earlier?" She moved to the door, laughing inwardly as he trailed closely behind her, clearly not expecting it to be that easy.  
  
The instant she stepped into the room, Marna jumped to her feet and began to plead. "Please, I can't go to jail! I only did it because she was trying to ruin my life. You can't arrest me!"  
  
Olivia just closed her ears to Marna's cries and led her out of the room.  
  
[end] 


End file.
